Appreciation

[Shingitai: Unbelievable. I've never seen someone fight like this—with such methods, and such weapons.]

[Shingitai:Absolutely exquisite. I'm starting to regret killing that hacker in such a crude way.]

[Shingitai: Exceptional creativity. I need to pursue a higher level in my craft, too.]

On the comms channel, Masamune was being bombarded with admiration from his teammate.

What had unfolded on the main street was crystal clear to the observers—brutal, yes, but executed with such finesse and beauty that even professionals couldn't help but praise it.

And that praise was exactly what gave Masamune a headache.

His teammate was utterly obsessed with creating tools for extreme environments—an engineer first, a mercenary second.

Most mercs wanted money and a job done. But this guy? Money was just a means to test new weapons.

If the mission let him field-test something new, he'd happily take a loss. Success was secondary.

Watching V fight again and again shattered everything he thought he knew about motorcycle capabilities.

And Jackie? Jackie was the textbook steady soldier, getting full use out of every inch of his gear.

Both of them were exactly the kind of users he admired most.

Unfortunately, they weren't his users.

All he could do was sigh in admiration:

[Shingitai: Masterful.]

[Shingitai: A masterpiece.]

[Shingitai: Engineering at its finest. How the hell did they make such a brilliant propulsion unit?]

[Masamune: "Stronger than hovercar engines?"]

[Shingitai: In a way, yes. It's a purely aerodynamic solution. No advanced fuels. No experimental materials created from stacks of cash. Just—]

[Shingitai: I can feel the passion in that machine. The design wasn't meant for war. It was repurposed.]

[Masamune: "How can you tell?"]

The line went quiet.

He didn't know how to explain it.

He could see it: the real genius wasn't in the turbofans or explosive thrust systems.

It was in the overall shape, the details in the airflow optimization—all the little things you'd only notice if you knew what to look for.

In terms of speed, compared to that first bike, humans had already made massive strides—cars, supercars, hovercraft, planes, supersonic jets.

If speed was the goal, you had other options.

But this machine—it showed craftsmanship.

The kind of madness that makes you want to fly—not with a plane—but with a pair of wings you built yourself.

To notice these things required a brain that could snapshot entire mechanical systems and simulate airflow in an instant.

And aerodynamics was a hell of a lot harder than most people realized.

He couldn't explain how he knew all this.

So he gave the answer he always gave:

[Shingitai: Craftsman's intuition.]

[Shingitai: Our sniper's useless. Two shots and the target's still not down.]

[Masamune: "In this weather, isn't that expected?"]

[No. The ammo uses a new primer—it's rain-resistant. 6000 meters is well within range. He just plain missed.]

Masamune was speechless.

Yes, it was technically within theoretical range, but that didn't guarantee a hit.

Special ammo or not, with rain this heavy, and winds this strong…

At 6000 meters, the target would be a black blur, even high-end optics wouldn't help much.

A 10% hit chance would be optimistic.

The plan wasn't falling apart—but the weather wasn't cooperating.

Masamune could guess what was going on in his teammate's mind: turning his awe and inspiration into frustration at the sniper.

That comment about regretting killing the hacker? Probably genuine.

From current intel, it looked like the hacker had been crucial to developing this equipment.

Regret.

Real regret.

The hacker likely used deep neural linkage for real-time coordination.

An EMP would've fried his entire central nervous system.

He might have survived… but the chances were infinitesimal.

BOOM!

The third shot rang out—

Still no signal that the job was done. Another miss.

[Shingitai: We can wrap up the IEC and EBM contracts.]

[Masamune: "What are you saying?"]

[Shingitai: Abandon the sniper. If he succeeds, he'll escape on his own. If he fails, he deserves to die.]

[Shingitai: We'll hire better mercs. I need someone who can push my tech further.]

[Masamune: "And the rifle?"]

[Shingitai: Let them have it. It's engraved with my name. Let them come find me.]

Masamune didn't comment.

After all, this teammate was also his mentor.

"Then let's withdraw. These lone wolves are too green."

ZZZRT—

A white beam of light suddenly lit up the jagged skyline—

Masamune froze, stunned.

A shadow darted between buildings.

Leo's nerves, just under the occipital bone, flared with itching pain.

The lizard serum gave him powerful regeneration. As long as he was breathing, he wouldn't die.

But regenerating nerves? That was a different beast.

They'd regrow messily. The chaos would cause signal errors, misfires—

Then immune cells would devour the malformed nerves. The body would try again. Over and over, until things stabilized.

During this period, cyberware couldn't function properly.

No one should survive that state.

So Leo had shut down most of his augments. His companion AI, "Little Octopus," was restricted to only running the exoskeletal tentacle arms.

In the pitch-black storm, his vertical pupils saw clearer than ever.

He yanked off his flickering night vision.

With the help of his octopus arms, he reached a nearby rooftop.

BOOM!

Gunfire pierced the storm.

Most night vision scopes would barely register a flicker—

But in Leo's eyes, the scene lit up.

The nervous system is a curious thing.

Now that most of his cyberware was off, his brain had unlocked a high-level "nocturnal mode."

In his vision, everything unimportant turned black—

A kind of AI-like auto-filtering.

And the bullet's tiny flash became a meteor streaking through the darkness.

The trajectory was clear as day.

Leo locked onto the sniper's nest.

"Found you."

Two octopus arms stabbed into the concrete.

The third extended in line with his gaze, pointing straight at the sniper's hiding place.

An abandoned construction site—just another ruin in Santo Domingo.

Surrounded by wasteland and vagrants. A place no one guards.

Perfect for a sniper.

He was hiding behind broken concrete.

But maybe—maybe he didn't understand how terrible Night City's construction quality really was.

Perfect place to test a new weapon.

[Weapon systems restored.]

[Charging: Sniper Mode.]